Based on Joseph Heller's impossible to film
satirical antiwar WW11 film, as written by Buck Henry
and directed by Mike Nichols ("The Graduate"/"Who's
Afraid of Virginia Woolf?"). It never caught
on with the public (or, for that matter, with many
film critics except as a flawed work with some good
spots) and served as Nichols' first box office
disaster. Unable to tell the whole story in terms of a
cinema experience, Nichols settles for various
set-pieces that revolve around the recurring nightmare
plaguing bomber pilot Captain Yossarian (Alan Arkin).
He's the neurotic flyer who is afraid to fly anymore
and is trying to get grounded because he's crazy. But
he's informed by the glum base doctor, Daneeka (Jack
Gilford), that according to the military code "anyone
who wants to get out of combat isn't really crazy and
therefore can't be grounded." That double-talk forms
the paradoxical bind interpreted as an impossible
military snafu, which serves as the film's "catch-22"
(now part of the lexicon). The set-pieces often don't
work separated from the whole story, as the absurdity
of the "catch-22" situation that prevails in the book
gets lost for the most part in the overlong and
fractured narrative. What helps is the all-star
ensemble cast pitches in with spirited performances
and at least gives the viewer some glimpses at how
hilarious and wonderful the book was.

The film is framed after the opening incident when
Yossarian has been stabbed by an enemy P.O.W. and in a
delirious state is having a nightmare recalling his
military actions that led him not to play ball with
the corrupt system and instead go AWOL. Set in a
United States Air Force base on the Mediterranean
island of Pianosa, where Colonel Cathcart (Martin
Balsam) runs the base and makes it impossible for the
pilots to be relieved of duty as he keeps raising the
number of missions the men have to fly before they are
rotated. The Colonel is a publicity hound whose chief
desire is to be featured in The Saturday Evening Post.
His underling, Lt. Col. Korn (Buck Henry), is an evil,
obsequious "yes man." Some of the other colorful
characters portrayed include: the despotic General
Dreedle (Orson Welles) who demands his orders, no
matter how absurd, be followed to the letter, and when
disobeyed we see where he commands his underlings to
"Take him out and shoot him;" Captain Orr (Robert
Balaban), who has crash-landed four times in
preparation for an escape to Sweden; the squadron's
conniving opportunistic mess officer, Milo
Minderbinder (Jon Voight), who sells such valuable
company equipment as parachutes and blankets to
shamelessly organize a free-enterprise profitable
syndicate by bartering for such impractical items as
cotton, silk, exotic fruits, religious relics and
statues; Captain Nately (Art Garfunkel), who strangely
thinks he's in love with a Roman whore and is willing
to shock his wealthy family back east by marrying her;
Major Major (Bob Newhart), the extremely introverted
squadron commander, who refuses to meet with anyone in
his office when he's in; Capt. Tappman (Anthony
Perkins), the chaplain, who ends up being unsure of
what his duties are as he's ordered to say catchy
short prays for the men before they go out on a
mission in order to get magazine coverage; Maj. Danby
(Richard Benjamin), head of operations, who talks
sweetly without saying anything; and then there's 1st
Lt. Dobbs (Martin Sheen), who is driven to insanity
and tries to assassinate Colonel Cathcart before being
stopped.

Catch-22 came out at the time of the unpopular
Vietnam War and though not about that war, its antiwar
message couldn't be clearer and more directed at that
war just as it now seems directed at the current messy
conflict in Iraq. Looking at it some 35 years later,
its flaws seem forgivable since it had the passion and
spirit of what the author was aiming for. It caught
the insanity of the war and the collection of sordid
military people who presided over it with their
narrow-minded visions, capitalist rip-off schemes and
phony gung-ho patriotism. Unfortunately the
overpopulated characterizations left an emotional void
and the Nichols' attempt at Fellini-like surreal
personal statements only made the film seem much
longer and more unfocused, though the overall effect
is still positively chilling. It's not a bomb, by any
means, even if it's not a direct hit.